


The answer is yes (Ask me again)

by Lemurafraidofthunder



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:11:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2038479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemurafraidofthunder/pseuds/Lemurafraidofthunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire asks Enjolras to marry him while they're both drunk and Enjolras tells him to ask again later. But then a day, the summer and almost a whole year goes by and Grantaire hasn't asked again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The answer is yes (Ask me again)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bunbunjolras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunbunjolras/gifts).



> Inspired by this song by Tina Dickow because I could see E and R getting to all kinds of shenanigans of misunderstanding like this.

Grantaire had once asked Enjolras the big question. It had been on a trip to Berlin that Enjolras's job had required him to make. One night, Grantaire had actually convinced Enjolras to go out and experience the lively night life in the city. They had already traversed the city in daylight with Grantaire showing Enjolras the vast street art scene around in the different neighborhoods and now it was the night’s turn, according to Grantaire.

The night flew by in a haze of light, music, dancing and drinks for Enjolras. He genuinely had a good time and he knew Grantaire had too if the constant smile tugging on the corners of his mouth was any indication. After what seemed both an eternity and a blink of the eye they found themselves walking along a near empty street in the soft pink-grayish light of dawn. It should be far too cool for them since the calendar wrote March 15th and the weather was shifty at best, but maybe the alcohol in their blood kept them numb enough to not feel it. When Enjolras wobbled a little in his steps, Grantaire stepped close and looped an arm around his waist. Enjolras leaned in and let his head rest on Grantaire’s shoulder and they stopped walking altogether in favor of just standing. The night was almost over anyway, what did they care of getting back to the impersonal hotel room any time soon? Enjolras was feeling the drinks he had consumed throughout the night a little too well and a smile was playing on his lips when he looked up at Grantaire who was only a bit more sober than Enjolras. He had drunk more, but then again, he could hold his liquor much better than Enjolras. His hold on Enjolras was tight around his waist and when he leaned in for a kiss Enjolras snaked his arms around his neck. Definitely not for balance, no. Then, when their lips parted, words seemed to slip out of Grantaire’s mouth, almost no louder than a breath.

“Will you marry me?”

Air caught in Enjolras's throat. The light buzzing in his head that had just before been credited to the alcohol was now all because of Grantaire’s words. Enjolras smiled. 

“R,” Enjolras breathed out, “ask me again when we’re both sober. And maybe when we’re not hungover.”

A flash of emotions crossed Grantaire’s face but it went too quick for Enjolras’s dazed mind to catch, and he didn’t say anything else. Enjolras broke the embrace but instead found Grantaire’s hand with his as they started walking again. The silence—a much as there can be silent in a city like Berlin—was calm and reflected the quiet happiness Enjolras felt spread like a warmth in his chest. 

After awhile he caught Grantaire looking at him sideways and just to make sure he wasn’t misunderstood—that had been one of their biggest struggles in the process of getting together in the first place—he stopped and placed a firm kiss to Grantaire’s lips. A smile bloomed on Grantaire’s face, one that probably mirrored Enjolras’s own. Satisfied that Grantaire was reassured, Enjolras started walking again and tugged Grantaire with him by the hand. 

He may not have expected Grantaire to propose to him again the first thing in the morning. They were both quite a bit hungover and didn’t get out of bed till noon, so a proposal would have been out of place to put it lightly. But he didn’t ask again that day, not even when they were having dinner at a perfectly romantic restaurant or later when they spent the night home in hotel room all alone. He didn’t mention it with a word and Enjolras didn’t dare bring it up himself.

At first Enjolras excused it with convincing himself that Grantaire simply forgot it. Then his mind wandered and argued that if Grantaire had forgotten, it couldn’t have been that important to him or he had been drunk off his face. Neither is really in any way soothing for Enjolras to believe. What if Grantaire had changed his mind? Maybe he didn’t want to marry Enjolras. They had been together for almost five years when Berlin happened and known each other for much longer before, but maybe Grantaire didn’t want to really commit to this.

That train of thought did nothing but make Enjolras miserable so he kept shutting it down whenever it started surfacing. He waited patiently for Grantaire to get back to that question. He waited through the summer where there were plenty of opportunities to ask if you asked him. But Grantaire didn’t. They went on with their lives just as they always did and there weren’t any signs that Grantaire had maybe grown tired of Enjolras. He just didn’t propose. By the time the trees started losing their leaves Enjolras questioned himself why he didn’t simply propose. There was really no reason that he couldn’t do it, yet something held him back. Grantaire had already asked, although drunk, and Enjolras had told him to ask again. So he had to wait for Grantaire. He wanted to wait for Grantaire. 

He finally loses his patience when the last snow of winter melts away and it’s nearing the time where it will be one year ago. Enjolras doesn’t confront Grantaire with, no of course not. He does what any sane person would do. He calls Combeferre.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he says before anything else when Combeferre picks up.

“Okay,” Combeferre says, “I guess it’s urgent in some way?”

“It’s not urgent in that sense, but it is something that is maybe driving me crazy?”

“Now what could be driving you crazy?” Combeferre asks and Enjolras can hear the smile in his voice. He can however also hear a faint other voice shouting things.

“No Courf, I don’t think it’s the patriarchy or discrimination against minorities,” Combeferre says into the phone and Enjolras laughs a little, “he wouldn’t sound so frantic then.”

“Is it really that bad? That you can hear so easily?” Enjolras asks then decides to get on with it, “it’s just this thing with Grantaire…”

“What thing with Grantaire?” The words come slowly almost hesitantly, but Enjolras doesn’t take much notice.

“Almost one year ago,” he goes on because if he stops now he might never get it out, “he asked me to marry him.”

“Grantaire… proposed?” Combeferre asks and Enjolras thinks he hears something break in the background.

“Well, we were both drunk, it was in Berlin, and I sort of said he should try again later when we were at least sober,” Enjolras continues his voice going up in pitch, “and now it’s been almost a year and he hasn’t said a word. I don’t know what to do.”

There’s a silence on the other end but it’s not complete silence. It sounds almost as if Combeferre is covering the receiver to prevent it from catching any words. Then after a shuffling sound he’s back again.

“Do you want to marry Grantaire?” The question comes slowly and in the very Combeferre-way of wanting to clear things out.

“Yes,” Enjolras replies and it feels kind of wrong to say that to Combeferre when it’s Grantaire he really wants to say it to, “but the problem is he just won’t ask me again, Ferre. I’ve waited a year!”

“Maybe you should try to wait a little longer,” Combeferre says and Enjolras would give anything to be able to see his best friend right now. There’s something to that tone and those words, but he can’t quite pinpoint it. Before he can protest that he has waited, there’s another shuffling sound and then Courfeyrac’s voice is coming through.

“You know, Grantaire is always taking a little while to come out of his shelf with things like this,” he says in a very cheerful manner, “just give him a little more time, Enjy?”

“I guess so,” Enjolras concedes and sighs, “I’m just beginning to think that maybe he doesn’t want this at all.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure he wants it,” Courfeyrac laughs and then catches himself, “aw shit! Just… give time, alright?”

With that Courfeyrac hangs up and Enjolras can do nothing but frown at the phone and try to figure out just what that was about. He’s pretty sure that there was something in that conversation that he was missing. But he can’t figure out and he’s only going to hurt his head trying. When there is something that Combeferre and Courfeyrac are keeping from him, he’s probably not going to find out. 

He doesn’t find out whatever they were keeping from him until a month later when Grantaire after a dinner out drags Enjolras to the Musain. They haven’t been there in quite a while even though it was the recurring place for their meetings back in the day where Les Amis was still an actual thing. The activist group formed in college held for quite a few years, but it slowly broke up when the angry righteous boys turned into not so angry righteous men. Some of them moved away from Paris and got on with their lives, others like Enjolras stayed but found other ways to influence the world through work. They haven’t all been together in about three years and it isn’t the same, visiting the Musain just Enjolras and Grantaire. But when Grantaire takes Enjolras by the hand and tugs him through the front room of the café and to the back room where they always held their meetings, Enjolras is met by a sight that takes his breath away. There, in the chairs around the well used table, everyone is sitting and it’s almost as if the past is revived in all it’s glory. At the back of the room Joly and Bossuet are talking loudly with Bahorel and Feuilly. Jehan is next to them speaking softly with Marius. Closest to the door and Enjolras are Combeferre and Courfeyrac next to each other and they are the first to look up and see Enjolras and Grantaire.

Then suddenly everyone’s attention is on Enjolras and all he can are shouts of greeting and laughter and it’s all wonderful. It’s been so long. He moves to go greet them all, but Grantaire’s hand on his elbow stops him. Everyone turns silent when he turns to look at Grantaire. 

“Did you arrange this?” he asks because it’s really amazing and it must have been near impossible to get them all together again.

“I did,” Grantaire replies and looks down at his feet for a moment before meeting Enjolras eyes. There’s something wild in his eyes and it occurs to Enjolras that Grantaire looks nervous.

“I wanted to make this special so…” Grantaire says and swallows, “so I figured I would need to get all the people you care about to be here again.”

“This…Special?” Enjolras stammers and takes a glance at Combeferre and Courfeyrac because he has a feeling… They are both grinning at him, Combeferre a little more restrained. When he looks back to Grantaire, he has dropped to one knee and God, this is really happening. Grantaire procures a small box from his coat pocket and holds it up, showing a simple gold band.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire says, “let’s just cut straight to the case. Will you marry me?”

It takes a moment for Enjolras to collect himself and his scattering thoughts because he might have known what the answer will be, but he wasn’t prepared for all this. He’s almost never speechless but he is now.

“Well, what’s the answer gonna be?” Grantaire asks and a grin is forming on his face, “it’s not overly comfortable down here you know, Apollo.”

This makes everyone laugh and gives Enjolras his right mind again. He smiles and reaches out to pull Grantaire up again.

“The answer is yes,” Enjolras says softly and leans in close to Grantaire, “of course.”

“Good.” 

That’s all Grantaire can say before they’re kissing and the box with the ring is pressed rather uncomfortably between their chests with Grantaire’s hand.

“Why didn’t you ask me sooner?” Enjolras asks when they part again, “I know I said to ask again when we were sober, but a hangover doesn’t last a year.”

“Maybe for you it doesn’t,” Grantaire jokes and puts his arms around Enjolras instead of between them, “it’s kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“I fully intended to do it soon right when you said it, but then the next day I kind of lost my courage,” Grantaire says, “and then the thoughts started. That maybe you didn’t actually want it because you hadn’t really said yes or anything. I thought you might not even remember it. You were quite drunk and so was I.”

Enjolras is about to protest all of these things because they are exactly the same things he thought about Grantaire, but Grantaire continues before he can get a word in.

“It took awhile to convince myself that that wasn’t true, not any of it. But then I figured that I wanted to do something special for the second time around, not just some drunken rambling. And then it took a good time to come up with this and actually find a time where it could be done.”

“I didn’t need this extravagant event or any ring to say yes to you R,” Enjolras says, “I just needed for us to be sober. You could have asked me in the morning when we woke and I would have said yes.”

“Yeah, but don’t you prefer this?” Grantaire asks and gestures to all of their friends who are all looking on with grins on their faces and Enjolras can’t say no.

“Maybe it is worth the wait,” he says and smiles.

“Only maybe!?” Bahorel protests loudly, “he some of us came from a long way away and you go ‘Maybe it’s worth it’!”

Everyone laughs and they take this as the moment to extricate themselves from each other and go greet everybody properly. It turns into a party more than their real meeting ever were but there is something to celebrate, Enjolras thinks as he revels in the company of old friends.

It’s not until much later when he and Grantaire are alone in their apartment that Enjolras realizes that Grantaire never got to give him the ring. They do that in private at a time that’s nearly dawn and in the pink-greyish light from the window Enjolras thinks it’s very fitting.


End file.
